Pursuing a multi-faceted hope in a wounded and wounding world

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Hear that?

It’s the death of my overly idealistic world…a violent one, I might add.

At some point, if one desires to make a difference in this world, one will find that their ideals and the practicality of applying those ideals to reality often makes a sickening crunch and a grisly wreck scene.

This I find daily…will I live in a fantasy world of constant wheels-spinning-ideals and hypocritical action, or will I honestly engage the struggle to make my ideals reality…which includes ditching some ideals as they are exposed in their inadequacy and shallowness?

I feel like a failure today. Things may feel better tomorrow.

In other news, according to Salon.com, you might want to pass on the salmon from Wal-Mart. Because, evidently it seems, you are eating salmon raised in Chile where they “are generally raised in open-net pens…There is a metal cage on the surface, with nets hanging down to a netted bottom…they grow tens of thousands of fish per net, 1 million or 1.5 million per farm. Then they all go poo. There is a huge amount of waste going into the ocean. People say, oh, that’s natural, all fish go poo in the ocean. But not in that kind of concentration. It just smothers the seabed.” One million salmon produce the same sewage…as sixty-five thousand people. The ocean pens suffer from another source of pollution — excess feed. Any food that isn’t consumed settles to the ocean floor, adding to the layer of feces. The waste itself contains residues of antibiotics and other chemicals used to keep the fish healthy during the two years it takes them to grow to harvestable size.” In the words of Jim Carrey in Ace Ventura, “Yummy.”

so do I, josh. I wonder if this bipolarity is a generational thing, or a consequence of rigorous honesty, or what?

And this hatred I have is really strange, because on a surface level, Jesus is really really messing things up for me…so much so that I wonder if the lifestyle I see myself called to is sustainable at all over the long haul.

On a deeper level, there’s this funny feeling hatching that feels really free…like the darkness is starting to lift just a bit.